


the best time of the year

by kinneyb



Series: giving back [9]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Fairy!Quentin, Gen, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Fairy!Quentin discovers Christmas and loves every second of it.
Relationships: (if you squint) - Relationship, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: giving back [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405969
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	the best time of the year

Eliot wasn’t a huge fan of the holidays if only because he grew up with such a terrible family and as a result most of his memories surrounding the holidays were… unpleasant, to say the least.

Margo, however, viewed things quite differently. She adored the holidays.

And since he adored her, he always helped her with whatever she wanted, including decorations. She helped him carry all the boxes to the living room, placing them on the floor.

“So,” he said. “Where do we begin?”

Margo hmmed thoughtfully just as Quentin flew into the room, obviously no longer napping. “Q,” she said, waving him over. He obeyed silently, landing on her shoulder. “Where do you think we should start?”

Quentin stared down at the many boxes, full of greens and blues and reds. He looked at Margo then Eliot.

“What’s going on?” he asked curiously. “Um. I - I want to help, but…”

Margo gasped sharply before Eliot could answer. “Do not tell me fairies do not have holidays,” she said. Quentin looked almost shy as he just shrugged. “Christmas?” she asked. “Hanukkah?”

“Bambi,” Eliot said finally, putting a hand out. Quentin flew over and landed in it. “You’re overwhelming the poor boy.”

Quentin smiled brightly. “I - I don’t really understand, but I want to help,” he said. “Just tell me what to do.”

Eliot smirked and reached down, picking up a string of lights. “Help me put up the lights?”

Quentin nodded quickly. “Okay!”

Putting lights was a lot easier with a fairy, actually, and soon they were finished. Quentin flew back down and landed on Eliot’s shoulder, eyeing them skeptically.

“Um,” he said. “Not to rude, but what’s the point?”

Margo laughed from where she was pulling things out of boxes. “Show him, El.”

Quentin looked at Eliot curiously as he walked over and crouched down, plugging in the lights. The whole room lit up in a golden glow from the lights and Quentin flew off Eliot’s shoulder, turning in a few circles.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “They’re - they’re beautiful!”

Eliot smiled and plopped on the couch. “Come here, Q.”

Quentin took one last look at the lights before flying over and landing on Eliot’s thigh. He watched curiously as they both pulled things out of the boxes. Weird circular things. Strings of sparkly, fluffy greens and silvers.

“Wh - what’s that?” he asked finally, too curious for his own good, pointing at the circular things.

Margo looked over and smiled. “Look,” she said, “closer.”

Quentin jumped off Eliot’s thigh and shuffled closer. Margo picked one up and shook it. He watched, in amazement, as small flecks of something like - “is that snow?” - danced around the inside of the globe, landing on the bottom and settling after a few seconds.

“Fake snow,” Eliot answered for her.

Quentin nodded and stared at it even long after the snow had settled.

Margo grinned and shook it again, and again, and again. Eliot laughed and eventually picked up a different one, shaking it. Quentin looked mesmerized by them.

“That’s - this is like magic,” he breathed.

Margo smirked. “You haven’t even seen the best one,” she said and his wings fluttered in excitement. She picked one up out of one of the boxes and placed it in front of him.

“Here, turn the knob,” she instructed.

Quentin nodded and grabbed the metal knob, trying and failing to do it.

“Don’t be mean, Bambi,” Eliot said. “Help him.”

Margo leaned over and twisted the knob for him. Soft music began playing and snow danced around the inside of the globe for much longer than the other ones. Quentin shuffled closer and watched with wide, sparkling eyes.

“Wow,” he said.

Margo smiled, uncharacteristically soft, and turned to Eliot. “Come on,” she said gruffly, clearing her throat. “Keep unpacking.”

Eliot rolled his eyes, but obeyed, pulling out all the decorations from last year.

The music and snow eventually stopped, and Quentin pouted.

“It’s okay, little Q,” Eliot said, reaching over and turning the knob again.

Quentin beamed when the music started again and Eliot went back to unpacking. Once the boxes were empty, Eliot checked on Quentin and noticed he was sitting on top of the snow globe, staring down into it.

“Wanna help with anything else or just stay there all day?” he asked, amused.

Quentin pouted and turned around. “I - I want to help! What else is there?”

Margo patted the stockings beside her on the couch. Quentin stared at him.

“Are those big socks?” he asked, entirely serious.

Eliot barked out a laughter that surprised even himself. He wiped at his eyes and stood up. “Follow me, Q,” he said, picking up the stockings.

Margo leaned back on the couch. “Stockings are just big socks, you know.”

Eliot looked back at her. “Shut up,” he said with no real heat. “They’re tradition.” Quentin followed him to the fireplace and watched as Eliot hung them. “See?” he said once he was finished.

Quentin flew closer and poked at one. “I don’t really get it.”

“God,” Eliot sighed dramatically, “you both are unbelievable.”

Quentin smiled sheepishly and flew over, nuzzling Eliot’s cheek. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, little Q,” he assured him, glaring playfully at Margo. “At least you have an excuse for your, frankly, wrong opinion.”

Margo flipped him off and they all laughed.

“Is there anything else to do?” Quentin asked, wings flapping.

Margo sighed lightly as she stood up. “Yes,” she answered, “but later. We need to go shopping for a tree, preferably tomorrow before the rush.”

Eliot nodded. Quentin tugged on his ear. “A tree?” he asked, obviously confused.

“Right,” Eliot said with a bit of a laugh. “Um. For Christmas, people put trees up and decorate them.”

Quentin was obviously still confused. “Why?”

“I… don’t know,” Eliot admitted, “but it’s kind of fun.”

Margo walked over and grinned, big. “It’s a lot of fun,” she corrected.

Quentin’s wings fluttered excitedly. “Can… can I go tomorrow?”

“Q, I’m not sure that’s a goo - ” Eliot started, but Margo cut him off, “sure - we’ll just need the cloaking spell again.”

He grinned, looking entirely too happy.

Eliot rolled his eyes and gently moved Quentin off his shoulder onto the mantle of the fireplace. “I need to go start dinner,” he said.

“Pasta?” Quentin asked hopefully. They had quickly learned that was his favorite food of the human world.

Eliot chuckled as he walked to the kitchen. “If you insist,” he said.

Because they are heathens, in Eliot’s words, they all sit in the living room as they devour dinner. Quentin always finished first, mostly because he didn’t eat very much, likely because of his small size.

Eliot watched as he flew over and landed on the mantle.

“Q,” he said with mild amusement. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he answered, unconvincingly.

Eliot just continued eating, watching as Quentin touched one of the stockings. “It’s really soft, isn’t it?”

Quentin nodded quietly.

Eliot watched, with more than just mild amusement, as Quentin slowly wiggled his way down into the stocking and disappeared from sight. He glanced over at Margo, who just looked back at him with a small smirk.

“Q?” he called. “What are you doing?”

No answer. Eliot looked over at Margo, vaguely worried. She gestured at the stocking and he stood up, walking over.

“Q?” he repeated. He opened the stocking and peeked down inside it.

Quentin was curled up, almost like a dog, his wings protectively wrapped around him, as he snored quietly.

“Oh - fuck,” Eliot breathed. “Margo, come here.”

She put her food down and walked over. “He’s so fucking cute.”

“Should I… I don’t know?”

Margo smacked his arm. “No way. Just let him sleep.”

Biting his bottom lip, he gently unhooked the stocking. “Okay, I have an idea.” He smiled at Margo and leaned down, kissing her cheek. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, El,” she said, still smiling long after he left the room.

Eliot walked to his room and opened the door, slow and quiet. He hung the stocking from his desk and walked into the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and returning a few minutes later.

“Goodnight, little Q,” he whispered, turning off the lamp.

Margo performed the cloaking spell the next morning and they were on their way. Quentin was so excited when they reached the farm of trees, fluttering around excitedly.

“Stop it, Q,” Eliot said, not unkindly. “You’re gonna get caught.”

He pouted, but nodded and stayed seat on Eliot’s shoulder. Margo stopped in front of a tree, big and thick.

“This is it,” she said. “The one.”

Eliot chuckled. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he remarked. But it really was a nice tree. He looked down at Quentin. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect!” he exclaimed, wings flapping excitedly.

Eliot grinned and nodded at Margo. “I think we have a winner.”

The worker carried the tree to their car for them, Quentin burrowed in the branches the whole way, and helped them strap it to the top of their car. Quentin was nowhere to be seen, so deeply buried in the branches.

“Q?” Eliot said. “Come on, you can’t stay in there.”

“Yes, I can,” he replied.

Eliot frowned. “Q, that’s - that’s dangerous. Come out, okay?”

“Please,” he begged, finally poking his head out. “It’s so nice and warm and - and it smells good.” He pouted, and Eliot sighed heavily.

“Margo, help me, please.”

Margo walked over and hmmed. “Do you think you’ll be safe?”

Quentin nodded quickly.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” she said. “I’ll drive reallyyyy, really slow, okay?”

Eliot pursed his lips. “Okay, but only because I know you can fly,” he said, pointing at Quentin.

Quentin beamed and burrowed back into the branches out of sight. Eliot rolled his eyes, fondly, as Margo leaned up and pecked his lips.

“Protectiveness is an odd, but good look on you,” she remarked.

Eliot ran his fingers lightly down her back. “Come on, let’s go.”

Quentin was safe - thank God - when they returned to the apartment. It was difficult transferring the tree from their car to their upstairs apartment, but doable. Once it was situated in the living room, Margo walked over and opened one of the only boxes they hadn’t touched last night.

“Wow,” Quentin said. “There’s so many of - ” he blinked. “What are those, exactly?”

Margo grinned. “Ornaments. You put them on the tree,” she explained, dumping them out of the box.

Quentin landed on the table and tried picking one up, but it was much too heavy. He stopped trying after a moment and took a deep breath.

“Here,” Eliot said, joining them and picking out a few of the lighter ones. “Try these.”

Quentin’s wings fluttered happily as he picked one up - almost as light as a feather - and flew over, hooking it on a branch. He turned around and beamed. “I did it.” He flew back over and landed. “More, more - ”

“Wait,” Margo said and pulled another box closer, opening it. “We should put the lights on first.”

Quentin blinked. “More lights? Humans reallyyyy like their lights.”

Eliot chuckled lightly. “We do,” he confirmed. He accepted the lights from Margo and went to stand up, but Quentin stopped him, landing in his hand and picking up the bundle of lights.

“I’ll do it!” he exclaimed and flew off with them before Eliot could protest.

Eliot shrugged. He assumed Quentin could do the lights.

But - “um, Eliot, Margo,” he said a few minutes later. Eliot looked up and almost laughed. Quentin was tangled up in the lights, dangling from the tree like he was an ornament. “Help, please.”

Margo laughed like a fiend as Eliot rushed over and helped him.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing.

Eliot laughed softly and brushed him off. “No problem. Let me help.”

Eliot busied himself with finishing the lights as Quentin flew over and landed on the couch. He noticed something in a bag on the table and poked at it, forever curious. “What’s this?”

Margo grinned like a shark and opened the bag, pulling out - “these, my dear little Q, are mistletoe.”

“Um,” he replied, obviously confused.

Margo giggled and leaned back on the couch. “Let me tell you alllll about the history of mistletoe.”

That night, Quentin entered the kitchen because of a wondrous smell and noticed Eliot was baking, like always.

“What’s that - ” he sniffed the air “ - smell?”

Eliot grinned, messing with some dough. He nodded at a box on the counter. “Candy canes,” he said. “A classic for the holidays.”

“Do you need any help?” he asked, hopefully.

Eliot didn’t, not really but he always felt bad turning Quentin away. “How about you just get them open for me?” he asked after a moment. “Things will go by quicker that way.”

Quentin beamed and nodded. He walked over and opened the box of candy canes and started slowly opening them.

He placed them on a plate he grabbed from the cupboard, one by one.

Quentin, being curious, couldn’t help but lick one, just a quick swipe of his tongue. The taste was unexpectedly overwhelming, strong and minty. He stumbled back and fell and realized, with a start, that he couldn’t get back up.

He glanced back and noticed his wings were stuck to a candy cane.

Quentin looked over at Eliot, still working with dough and humming softly. Feeling silly, and a little guilty, he sat there.

Finally, without prompting, Eliot turned around and paused. “Q?”

Quentin flushed, bright red, as Eliot reached over and picked up the candy cane he was stuck to. He dangled from it, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment. “Why, hello, Q,” he raised an eyebrow. “What happened here?”

“Hi, Eliot,” he answered, muffled by his hands. “Um. These are… really good. Very strong. Um. Sorry I ruined one.”

Eliot laughed softly. “Nonsense,” he said with a wink. “You’ve just found the perfect one for me to taste test.” Leaning forward, he licked the cane - once, twice - until finally Quentin’s wings were freed.

Giggling, Quentin flapped his wings, drying them.

“Here,” he said, handing Quentin the cane after. “You can have that one.”

Quentin looked up at him with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed. “And,” he handed him another one, careful of his wings, “give this one to Margo.”

Quentin nodded and flew off.

He found Margo in her bedroom, like usual. She was sitting on her bed, a ton of fabric in front of her.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he landed on her leg. “Oh, Eliot said this is for you,” he added after a beat.

Margo accepted the candy cane and smiled. “I’m making you a gift.”

“Wh - a gift?” he asked, obviously confused. “Why?”

Margo licked the candy cane, once. “It’s tradition,” she said. “On Christmas, you buy gifts for the people you care about.”

“Oh,” Quentin breathed and he looked guilty. “Um, I don’t - ”

Margo bopped him on the head with the dry end of the cane. “You don’t have to get us anything, Q,” she assured him. “I just… wanted to do this for you,” she continued after a second. She sounded almost nervous. “I mean, this is your first Christmas and everything. It’s kind of a big deal.”

Quentin smiled, big and sincere. “Thank you, Margo,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

Before he knew it, it was the morning of Christmas. Quentin was excited, unexpectedly so. He flew into the living room and sat on the couch, waiting for the others.

Eliot appeared first, looking tired but happy. “How long have you been up?”

Quentin smiled, a bit sheepishly. “Um, like two hours?”

Margo appeared right after him, rubbing at her eyes. “You should’ve gotten us.”

“I didn’t want to,” he admitted. “You two were sleeping so peacefully.”

Margo joined him on the couch and picked him up. “You are so sweet,” she said. “Okay, well, breakfast first.” She placed Quentin in her lap. “Then presents.”

Quentin squirmed, excited and impatient, in her lap.

“I’ll be quick,” Eliot assured them with a laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen.

After breakfast, which was amazing, like always, they gathered back together in the living room, sitting on the floor. They didn’t have many presents under the tree, but there were a few.

Eliot dropped two presents in front of Quentin.

He looked surprised, but excited. “Two?” he asked, almost shyly.

“One from me,” Margo said, tapping one, “one from Eliot.”

Eliot smiled at Quentin’s reaction, so pure and sweet. “Go ahead,” he said, “you can go first.”

Quentin hesitated for just a second, glancing at Margo. “Go on,” she said.

Beaming, he ripped open the first present (with a little help from Eliot) from Margo. In the box was a small bag and inside the small bag was a cute hat, red and green with a little white poof at the end. He grinned and put it on.

“This is so warm,” he said in awe.

Margo smiled and ducked her head. “I wanted to do a whole outfit, but.”

“Wait!” Quentin exclaimed and pulled out more - a pair of matching socks. He put them on, too. “Thank you, Margo.” He flew over and hugged her face. She laughed and batted him away playfully.

Settling down again, he opened Eliot’s present. It was a terribly ugly Christmas sweater with reindeer and - “who’s that?” he asked, pointing.

“That’s Santa,” Margo said.

Quentin obviously did not understand but he grinned anyway as he tugged on the sweater over his t-shirt. “So warm. But why is it…” he hesitated, looking at Eliot. He lowered his voice. “Ugly?”

Eliot and Margo both starting laughing, loud and unabashed. Quentin blushed.

“What?” he squeaked. “I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be - ”

Eliot reached over and picked him up. “It’s another weird Christmas thing,” he explained. “The infamous ugly Christmas sweater.”

“Really?” Quentin asked, but he looked happy.

“Really,” he confirmed with a grin.

The rest of the day was busy - Eliot and Margo had friends over all day. Quentin had met most of them before, so it was no problem but he still found himself a little overwhelmed at points.

So, during the party, he disappeared into the kitchen.

He smelled something… oddly good and looked around. All the food had been removed from the kitchen and placed in the living room for the guests, so he wasn’t sure what he was smelling.

That’s when he pinpointed the smell: mistletoe hanging from the door to the kitchen. Quentin flew up and sniffed it.

He sighed and flew even closer. It was an interesting, but good smell. Not like anything he’d smelled before, not even any of Eliot’s many spices.

Quentin barely realized he’d gotten stuck until - “Q?” Eliot said and he startled, trying to pull away but it was useless. He was stuck.

He blushed as he looked down at Eliot. “Um. I - I swear I didn’t do this on purpose. It was - Margo told me all about the history of mistletoe. Um. It just - smells really good.”

Eliot raised a dark eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Quentin nodded quickly. “I swear,” he said.

“Well,” Eliot stepped closer and grinned. “Intentions don’t really matter regarding mistletoe, do they?” he asked, and Quentin blushed even darker. “Q?” he asked when Quentin didn’t reply. “I’m just messing with - ”

Quentin smiled. “I guess they don’t,” he interrupted gently.

Grinning, Eliot leaned in and kissed him on the belly, right over the ugly reindeer on his stomach, laughing when he squirmed. Quentin gently batted his forehead with the palm of his hand, laughing too, but Eliot barely even felt it.

He pulled back and winked. “So, Q, what do you think about Christmas?”

“I - I love it!” Quentin said, so sincere.

Eliot smiled and reached up, gently untangling him. “Good, because it’s yearly.”

Quentin gasped. “ _Really?_ "


End file.
